Love's Holiday
by SullivanLane
Summary: Chloe, under the influence of some powerful painkillers, dreams that she has taken on another identity. Spoilers for "Kinetic."


_Author's Note: After Maveness saw the trailer for Kinetic, she issued a challenge to me on KryptonSite to write a story about Chloe getting amnesia and taking on a new identity. Here is what fell out of my brain (way too late; sorry, Maven). But if it sucks, it's all my fault. Oh yeah, and this is definitely AU/wishful thinking on my part. I think. You decide. Oh yeah, and if you're a Clark/Lana shipper, turn away now. You will get squicked. Heh._  
  
"Love's Holiday" by Sullivan Lane (katpicson@yahoo.com)  
Spoilers: "Kinetic"  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
"Clark!" I screamed with all the conviction I could muster while dangling precariously over Lex Luthor's lawn. My fingers were shaking, grasping desperately to the damp stone window ledge. I willed myself not to panic, not to cry. My left eye began to throb, where I had been elbowed by the guy with the green tattoo. I ignored the pain and focused on the sounds within the castle. I heard Clark struggling as he fought off the burglars.  
  
I kicked at the wall, trying to find a crevice in the smooth stone, so I could hoist myself up to the ledge. Useless.  
  
My fingers slipped. I screamed. I heard a sickening crunching sound.  
  
Black.  
  
***  
  
_Would you mind  
If I touch, if I kiss, if I held you tight  
In the morning light?  
Would you mind if I said how I felt tenderly tonight?_  
  
My head ached, especially in the vicinity of my left eye. I found it hard to open my eyes, but I heard noises around me and wanted to know what was happening. My eyes fluttered open with difficulty, and I squinted because my eyesight was blurry.  
  
How long had I been unconscious?  
  
I saw a person next to me. I blinked and the image became clearer. It was Clark.  
  
"Clark?" I said. "Are you OK? What happened to me?"  
  
"Shhh," he said, brushing my hair back with his hand. My forehead was damp with perspiration. "I'm fine. You have a black eye and you broke your arm."  
  
"When can I get out of here?" I asked, trying to sit up. It hurt. And I was impaired by my arm, which was encased in a cast.  
  
"Don't try to move," Clark advised.  
  
"What's going on?" I asked. "Where's my dad, my mom …?"  
  
"They're on their way here," he said soothingly.  
  
I sat back and let out a huge breath. The room was dark, which meant it was either late night or early morning. The door was ajar, so the only light was the one coming from the hallway. It was enough to cast a dim glow on Clark's face.  
  
"How long was I out?" I asked.  
  
"A few hours," Clark responded. "I was really worried about you. I'm glad you woke up."  
  
I smiled and settled deeper in my pillow, still feeling a bit woozy. "I don't think I'm ready to get up and start fighting crime or anything," I told him, closing my eyes again. "Thanks for staying with me."  
  
"Um." Clark cleared his throat. My eyes flew open. Clark looked apprehensive, as if he were anxious to tell me something. I noticed the sun was peeking out, slowly but surely, through the window behind him.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
Clark moved his chair closer to my bed. "I just realized something tonight. We've known each other for a long time, and you're the best friend I've ever had. I was really scared. I thought you had died."  
  
I nodded, even though it hurt when I moved my head. "I know."  
  
"No, I don't think you do." Clark took my right hand in both of his. "I think … I think I'm in love with you." He took a deep breath. "I know you probably don't feel the same, but what just happened made me realize it."  
  
My eyes became hot with tears that threatened to spill over onto my cheeks. I willed them back at bay. "What makes you think I don't feel the same way?" I asked as casually as I could.  
  
Clark smiled shyly but he didn't break his gaze with me. "Do you?"  
  
"Clark," I whispered. I didn't know where to start. I pulled his hand, willing him to come closer. He lowered his face so that it was inches away from mine.  
  
"Yes?" he whispered back.  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
He lowered his face onto mine and I kissed him, this time forcing myself to remember every detail, every feeling, every spark of electricity that coursed through my body as his lips gently caressed mine. His right hand rested on the side of my head, tentatively stroking my hair. My eyes involuntarily closed and I forgot that I was laying in a hospital bed, the whole left side of my body wracked with pain and bruises. His kiss, his lips, the soft moaning sound he made as he pushed his tongue into my mouth, made me forget everything.  
  
This can't be real. This is Clark and me, kissing. And he just said he was in love with me. Wait, why was I questioning it?  
  
He pulled away slightly and kissed me gently on the cheek. "I love you, Lois Lane."  
  
Lois Lane?  
  
I opened my eyes to speak, but I couldn't find my voice. I looked up at Clark, who wore a confused expression on his face.  
  
I felt dizzy again. I reached out to Clark, wanting to tell him to help me, that I was slipping back into unconsciousness, but it was as if I couldn't find my voice. I felt like he was moving farther and farther away, and I reached out to him. I screamed, but I knew the sound was only heard inside my own head.  
  
I fell in a Technicolor spiral, my head still throbbing. And then he was gone.  
  
***  
  
I woke up again, but this time I was alone. Did I dream that I had woken up and Clark was here, telling me he loved me? I struggled to wrap my brain around the name he called me, but it felt just out of my reach. All I knew was that he didn't call me Chloe Sullivan.  
  
I was definitely confused. The bump on my head had definitely affected *something* in my brain.  
  
There was a knock on the door. A tall, balding man wearing glasses and wearing a white coat entered the room.  
  
"Hi, I'm Dr. Bryant," he said. "How are you feeling, Chloe?"  
  
"My head feels like a the inside of a drum set during a Blink-182 concert. How long was I unconscious?"  
  
"A few days," he told me. "You have a concussion, a broken arm and some cuts and bruises."  
  
"Is Clark all right?"  
  
"He's fine. He was unhurt."  
  
"What kind of drugs am I on?" I asked. "I think I'm hallucinating."  
  
"You're probably just dreaming," the doctor said. "Perfectly normal for someone who took a nasty bump to the head."  
  
"Where are my parents?" I asked. I tried to sit up, but my head began to throb. I gave up and lay back down.  
  
"They're on their way here," Dr. Bryant said. "Your friend Clark was here your whole first night, and so was your father and Lex Luthor." He indicated a table behind him, which I saw was filled with flowers.  
  
"My head hurts," I said.  
  
"I'll have the nurse bring you something," Dr. Bryant said.  
  
"I don't want to sleep anymore," I told him, getting antsy. I was not used to sitting on my ass waiting, and it was time for me to get up and make productive.  
  
"Oh, it's all right. It's just for the pain," he told me before he walked out.  
  
Five minutes later, a nurse came in with a cup of water and some pills. I suspected that the doctor was only appeasing me because not long after, I was feeling drowsy again.  
  
For the sake of my sanity, I willed myself not to dream about Clark.  
  
***  
  
_I never ever felt this way  
In my heart before,  
Oh, love has a holiday in my heart tonight …_  
  
I was floating in a sea of lavender and orange blossoms. I felt light and warm and safe. I opened my eyes.  
  
I was in a bath. Not just any bath, but obviously a very expensive one made of black marble and ornate silver faucets. My naked body was covered with thick fragrant bubbles. The bathroom was softly lit with a row of small, short candles, flickering along a dresser and reflected by a mirror.  
  
I gasped as I heard the door open. I slouched a bit, making sure that I was completely covered with the bubbles. Where was I? The only person I knew rich enough to afford a lavish bath like this was Lex Luthor. My ears and cheeks burned with embarrassment even with the thought of Lex walking in on me.  
  
Clark entered and I gasped again. He was wearing a fluffy white bathrobe and slippers. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were flushed.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting at the edge of the tub.  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing."  
  
"You're so beautiful," he told me. He reached over and held the back of my head, pulling me closer. He kissed me. "I can't believe it took so long for me to realize it."  
  
I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want it to end, even though I had to be dreaming.  
  
The sound of splashing water prompted me to open them, and I was shocked to see that Clark had shed his robe and was lowering himself in the tub across from me. My eyes were wide with surprise (to say the least) but for once in my life I was speechless. I looked away in modesty.  
  
"Honey," he said, finding my hand in the water and holding it. "Is something wrong?"  
  
I shook my head vigorously, still not trusting my voice.  
  
Clark came closer, and I felt his long legs, the hair on his legs tickling the smoothness of mine as they slid against each other.  
  
"I want to be with you," he whispered. "I want …" his lips brushed by my ear "to make love to you, Lois."  
  
***  
  
"Dammit!" I woke up again to the sound of a squeaky food cart wheeling by outside. It was daylight, and there were more flowers on the table at the other end of the room.  
  
Why do I always wake up when the dream is just starting to get good?  
  
I pounded the bed with my good hand in frustration.  
  
A nurse poked her head inside. "How are you doing, Miss Sullivan?"  
  
"I'm fine, I guess," I told her.  
  
"It's lunchtime," she said. "Your parents were here this morning, but you were asleep."  
  
I barely heard her because she was carrying a tray filled with food. Suddenly I was ravenous. When I finished my Salisbury steak (when did hamburger covered with gravy suddenly become steak?), canned peas, and (ugh) red Jell-O, the nurse reappeared with pills and water.  
  
"I don't want to sleep anymore," I told her.  
  
"It's not to help you sleep; it's for the pain," she assured me.  
  
I eyed her, but she seemed friendly and not suspicious at all. Maybe she was telling the truth. Besides, I was in no position to argue, and my head and body really hurt. So I took the pills and downed them quickly.  
  
She was a big, fat liar.  
  
***  
  
_Would you mind if I looked  
into your eyes till I'm hypnotized?  
and I lose my pride …  
Would you mind if I make love to you till I'm satisfied?  
  
I never ever felt this way in my heart before  
Love has a holiday in my heart tonight …_  
  
Not again. Why did I keep dreaming? Was I on some sort of aphrodisiac/hallucinogen/painkiller? Whatever the doctors gave me, I was not amused. OK, maybe a little amused. But mostly frustrated.  
  
I was in a very luxurious bed, underneath some heavenly sheets (probably Egyptian cotton, a thousand thread count; the kind that they sell in Pottery Barn) and a goose-down comforter.  
  
There was a telltale lump of another person next to me, and rhythmic breathing to indicate the other person was sleeping. I leaned over to look at the person's face. Yes. It was Clark.  
  
I had to use the bathroom. I pushed the covers aside and – good Lord! All I was wearing was a black chiffon and lace negligee and a black thong. I felt more than naked. Did the Victoria's Secret fairy pay me a visit in my dreams, too?  
  
I got up quickly, found the bathroom (after two false tries and running into a closet and a laundry room) in the hallway, took care of business, and tried to make my footfalls light so as not to wake Clark.  
  
I didn't succeed.  
  
"Mmm," he moaned, wrapping his arm and leg around me when I got back into the bed.  
  
"Clark –" I protested.  
  
Why was I protesting? I must have gotten brain damage from that bump on my head.  
  
I let him place kisses along my collarbone, and allowed his hands to roam freely over my body.  
  
He stopped abruptly and rolled me over, looking me in the eye as he lay gently on top of me.  
  
"Tell me how you feel about me," he said, searching my eyes for the answer.  
  
"I … I love you," I said, meaning every word.  
  
He smiled, and I wanted to melt. "I love you," he replied. "And … let me show you how much." He clasped his right hand in my right and I caught the glimmer of a platinum and diamond wedding set on my ring finger.  
  
I smiled as his kisses deepened, and I lost myself in his touch, his voice and his love, until …  
  
"Lois Lane Kent, I love you," he breathed …  
  
***  
  
"Chloe? Chloe?" a voice whispered. I awoke to the smell of Lysol and roses. A most interesting and unappealing combination.  
  
"Dad!"  
  
I wrapped my good arm around him, and he kissed my forehead. He looked tired and disheveled.  
  
"Doctor, her face is red," Dad told the doctor, who I noticed was standing behind him.  
  
"I don't think that means anything," the doctor said, looking at me closely.  
  
Damn straight. It's because my most erotic dream was interrupted by the jarring voice of my father. Not exactly sexy.  
  
"How do you feel, honey?" Dad asked.  
  
I nodded. "I feel OK. Considering my whole body is in pain and all that other junk," I added.  
  
He smiled. "You worried us. Clark is especially torn up. He's on his way over from school." He handed me a stack of cards. "These are from … well, practically everyone."  
  
I dropped them and glanced through quickly. He was right. Everyone from Principal Kwan (I smirked as I read his message to "get well and get the Torch started again"), Lana and Whitney, the Kents, the Rosses and even the Torch staff had sent some sort of greeting or another. A card from Lex Luthor indicated that he had sent over the large arrangement of white roses. I had visions of jockeying a horse when I saw it.  
  
"Will I be OK?" I asked the doctor.  
  
I took his smile as a positive sign. "Yes," he said. "Fortunately Lex Luthor has paid for some very expensive treatments, and you're progressing faster than I expected."  
  
I raised my eyebrow at his words. So Lex was responsible for the aphrodisiac hallucinogens. A mental memo to Lex to thank him.  
  
"Honey, I've got some paperwork to fill out," Dad told me. "I'll be back in a few minutes."  
  
"OK." Alone in the room again. The television didn't have cable. Sigh. I flipped through the cards again, noting that the card from the Kents was only signed by Mr. and Mrs. Kent. I wondered how busy Clark was that he couldn't even sign his name at the bottom of a card that his mother bought.  
  
But my face brightened when I saw Clark's silhouette at the door, holding a bunch of red roses.  
  
I smiled and pushed away the visions of Clark in the bathtub, Clark in a king-sized bed.  
  
I can revisit those visions later.  
  
- Fin – 04.13.2002  
  
_This story is copyright Sullivan Lane 2002. All recognizable characters are copyright WB, DC Comics, Tollin Robbins Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. The song referenced is performed by Earth, Wind and Fire and is titled "Love's Holiday."_


End file.
